


Weaving Webs

by Nevanna



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevanna/pseuds/Nevanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dottie has learned not to give in to desire or fear, but sometimes they catch up with her anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weaving Webs

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was written for the "voyeurism" challenge on the Comic Drabbles LiveJournal community. Although it takes place during 1.05, "The Iron Ceiling," it requires canon knowledge for all of _Agent Carter_ 's first season.

When Dottie slips into Peggy Carter’s bedroom, she isn’t sure where to look first. Under the bed, with its covers arranged to precision? In the desk, where Peggy won’t have left anything more incriminating than letters or photographs? In the bureau, where each piece of clothing, each keepsake, tells a delicious secret about the woman who owns them?

Dottie never owned any possessions that couldn’t be discarded quickly. She never revealed any scrap of information that could turn her from a player into a pawn. 

She learned both of those lessons long before she met her current associate, although spending time with him reminded her of why they were crucial not to forget.

While Dr. Fennhoff ensnared each of their targets, she watched in silence, anticipating the inevitable moment when they surrendered. Whether it took a few minutes or several conversations, he was always able to convince them, through well-chosen words and a twist of the gold band on his finger, that they could have what they most wanted, or escape what they most feared, by following his instructions.

“Is that how you plan to keep me in line, too?” she asked him once.

“Will I need to?” he replied, touching his ring briefly. 

She could barely suppress a shudder as she said, “I _never_ lose sight of my objective.” 

At first, Dottie assumed that Peggy was the same way: dedicated solely to her mission, and only able to see weapons or tools or targets, instead of friends and family and lovers. Details of her life outside her job tell a different story: the affectionate smiles and casual touches that she shares with Angie Martinelli, or the catch in her voice when she talks about Brooklyn, or, now, the photograph of a skinny, blond man who looks familiar and unfamiliar at once.

Dottie knows that she’s in enemy territory, but right now, she fiercely wants to linger here, to uncover and understand all the pieces of a life that can never be hers. As she locks the door behind her and hurries down the hallway with a tube of Peggy’s lipstick tucked away in her pocket, she shakes herself loose as if from a dream. If Fennhoff were here, would he be able to use that dream against her?

Dottie has seen too may people undone by desire or fear. She will not let those things undo her as well.


End file.
